The Peacemaker
by Lauryn Vi
Summary: To live really live, one must learn. Some lessons are bitterly acquired. That's just how things work. [In response to a challenge at the Dove.][One shot]


Disclaimer: The characters of this story do not belong to me. The name 'Aylden' IS mine – but his character is not. :)

Inspired by my writing fetish, this short story was written in response to Challenge #20 at the Dancing Dove. [How like my luck – a writing spree during the middle of exams. :P] The purpose? To fulfill the challenge, and perhaps answer and muddle over a few ideas that I have before never understood or put together.

The Challenge? _To portray a ruler at their cruellest, most calculating, or just most exploitive._

Enter King Roald

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He gazed down at the five men grovelling before him, waiting for him to speak as he presided on his throne. His throne; the instrument that set him apart from all men – that magnified his power and ability tenfold. The power to govern – to rule, the ultimate power of justice – the power to kill.

His eyes – deep blue eyes that were the famed trait of the Conté line – were cold and merciless.

It was only his second year on the Throne, and already, these people sought to plot against him – to overthrow him. His stomach clenched painfully as he though of losing the precious land his father had conquered – the land he had died for – to the hands of a few unblooded Knights and Lords. He could not, _would_ not, let it happen – he would defend this Realm of Tortall even if it killed him.

His voice was as icy as his eyes. It held command for attention from the first syllable. "You have committed high treason against the Crown. To do so is to seek the penalty of death."

He paused to lets his words sink in against the gasps of horror and desperation.

"You will be executed tomorrow at noon."

He shut his ears to the pleas of mercy as the echoes reverberated in the vastness of the Throne Room; to Lianne's sudden cry as she stood by his side. They had been caught right-handed by none other than his own men, as they met in the concealed, window-less room of the palace. They had betrayed their King, and now, they must pay the price of death.

This was justice.

A pair of deep brown eyes caught his own. Tangled brown hair framed his face and brushed his broad shoulders – his mouth was carved with trial, and he had lines around his eyes Roald had never seen before. He held out his hands in a gesture of peace. "Please, Your Majesty. I am innocent. You know I would never harm the husband of my sister, Roald."

He ignored the jab of consciousness that pricked his mind at those words. _My sister…_He was going to put to death his Lady's only brother – his own friend for many years.

Lianne touched his arm gently. Her lips trembled, and her eyes were bloodshot, shining with unshed tears. She had never been strong, but she looked pale – too pale to be healthy. "My Lord. Please – have mercy. Aylden cannot be guilty of said crime. He would defend you with his life…Roald, please…"

He stiffened as his Lady's plead. But it had been an outright betrayal. Aylden had been found in the same room as the conspirators. That had been proof enough.

"No. They are all guilty."

He turned away.

-----

Whispers ran around the courtyard. All the residing nobility of Court had come to watch the first execution since the Crowning of King Roald. They had heard of his harshness and severity, and now they drew together in fascinated abhorrence for the affair. He himself watched the execution with cold and sickening satisfaction. Let this be a lesson of loyalty to the country.

Lianne sobbed quietly behind him, shuddering as the axe came down for the second time. He would not look at her. As his Queen, she had to learn one day to make sacrifices of heart, for the good of the Kingdom. Let this be the day.

The axe swished for the third time. The fourth – and finally, it came down for the last time – aiming for the neck of his long-time friend. For Aylden. He closed his eyes. This was a necessary measure, he told himself._ Let them learn from it._

A sudden gasp rose from the courtyard. His eyes snapped open. "No!" Lianne – his quiet, caring Lianne – had broken through the ranks of watching Nobles.

He watched in helpless horror as the executioner raised his axe for the fifth and final blow. She threw herself on her brother, shielding him with her body. The axe swerved violently to avoid her, but the blunt side of the weapon came down on her stomach – on her unborn child. Hard.

Abandoning all other considerations, he pushed through the Nobles, and ran towards her still form – even as she began to bleed.

-----

_She would live_… The thought echoed in his mind as he sat beside her, his fingers interlacing with hers. _She will be all right…_

His other hand was placed on Jonathan's shoulders, as his son stood by his side. His only child. A sigh of pain and remorse crossed his lips as he looked at the young replica of himself. Once, he had dreamed a vision of many such images, some with his own coal-black hair, others with Lianne's chestnut glosses – but all with the sapphire eyes of the Conté line.

But it was too late. The vision had been shattered by an axe that had moved too quickly, a sentence that had been dealt too rashly.

Lianne stirred, and her dark brown eyes fluttered open in confusion. He tensed with apprehension as she searched his eyes intently with her own. Slowly, they filled with tears as she finally remembered. As she understood – understood what this one afternoon had cost him.

"Roald – I'm sorry…"

Too pained to speak, he choked on his words, but tightened his clasp on her fingers

"But I couldn't let you kill him – he was my brother. I love him. And…" She stopped and struggled to sit up, leaning towards him imploringly, willing him to understand.

"He was innocent."

Roald took her in his arms. _Aylden was innocent_. Upon the accident this afternoon, he had his palace men scour the castle for information – for evidence. And they had found it.

A crumpled list was sitting on his desk this very moment. A crude sketch of the members of the plan, and their role in the rebellion. Aylden's name had not been amongst them. Roald now suspected he had gone instead of confront them.

Lianne had been right all along.

In his anger, he had set aside years of trust. In his haste, he had destroyed the dignity of his friend and brother-in-law. In one blow, he had endangered his wife, and slaughtered the lives of his future children.

In this second year of reign, he had made a terrible mistake.

It had not only been his nobles that had learned a value of betrayal, nor Lianne and her lesson of sacrifice. But he had learned – learned the bitter meaning of regret.

Yet the cost had been high – too high. It had not been worth it, and he had to make sure it never happened again. He needed to forgive, to forget – to create peace in his country and with his neighbours.

At least he would have the newly appointed Lord Provost to help him. Aylden.

He was learning.

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A/N: Argh… written after writing a physics exam – I don't know how well it worked out. Lolz. Comments and reviews?

--Edited-- After reading the reviews, I realized once again that perhaps casting Aylden as 'Lianne's only brother' was a misleading idea. Indeed, I am aware that Jon and Gary are cousins - and thus Lianne and Gareth are related. :) I had originally wanted Aylden to be Lianne's cousin, but somehow, the term 'cousin' seems emotionally further away then 'brother'. Lolz. So for all purposes and intentions, 'brother' it is. Haha. --


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